


your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb

by ratcrimes



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2019-2020 NHL Season, M/M, POV Outsider, TK CHIPPED A TOOTH, how to fake being a functional bi, past brioux, when you're really a disaster bi juggling 30 screaming infants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:37:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22287436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratcrimes/pseuds/ratcrimes
Summary: TK takes his sweet time opening the door and glares at Claude from the dark cave of the hotel room. Impressive since his eyes are nearly shut against the light from the hall. “Why?” he starts, and breaks off for a tequila-scented yawn. “We don’t leave for like. Eight more hours.”Claude smiles at TK and hands him the Gatorade and one of the coffees. “Why did you send me a dick pic last night, Teeks?”
Relationships: Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick
Comments: 85
Kudos: 797





	your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb

**Author's Note:**

> if you found this fic by googling yourself or someone you know: this is archive-locked so it's your own fault. send me characterization notes.
> 
> you know what the title is from.

Claude doesn’t really party like he used to. Some of that’s being a captain, and some of that’s having an actual baby now, and some is just the recent skew of the fun/hangover ratio. So the morning after their 3-2 win in Boston, Claude wakes a little before the first of his three alarms starts to go off. He grabs his phone and rolls over to thumb through his texts before he gets up. TK’s was the most recent, sent at about four in the morning, so he opens that first.

Claude blinks. Stares. Takes a minute to percolate through all five stages of grief. Checks the rest of his texts to make sure no other crisis needs his attention. Then he makes two cups of shitty hotel coffee, grabs one of his emergency Gatorades, and heads out.

TK takes his sweet time opening the door and glares at Claude from the dark cave of the hotel room. Impressive since his eyes are nearly shut against the light from the hall. “Why?” he starts, and breaks off for a tequila-scented yawn. “We don’t leave for like. Eight more hours.”

Three. But they’re not paid for their math skills. Claude smiles at TK and hands him the Gatorade and one of the coffees. “Why did you send me a dick pic last night, Teeks?”

While TK darts for his phone Claude flicks on a lamp and kicks the door shut.

“Well fuck _me,_” TK says. He’s vibrating like an overgrown Chihuahua. “I wasn’t trying to send it to _you, _G. Just hammered.”

Claude covers his sigh of relief by taking a sip of coffee. “Seriously, TK. I _know _you got the _don’t send dick pics _talk, and you _definitely _don’t send dick pics with your fucking face in them.”

“You couldn’t see my face!” He’d been holding his shirt up with his teeth, which had covered his rat beard but not much else.

“And the tats?”

Instead of answering, TK cracks open the Gatorade and gives Claude the evil eye while he chugs it.

Claude settles into a chair and tries to figure out how to ask gently. Then he gives up and just asks. “So is he on the team?”

TK splutters. “How—why would you even—who says I meant to send it to a dude?”

Claude opens the texts up again, trying not to look at the picture. He’s seen TK’s dick before and will see it again, but the context just makes it weird. “_Ur really missin out bro,_” he reads off in his best TK impression. “You call a lot of girls _bro_? No, actually, that would explain a lot—”

TK slides down the wall to sit on the carpet. “Who the fuck made a dickhead like you captain.”

God, Claude wishes he’d gotten more practice at this. Or, like. Any. “I’m not asking because I care who you’re sticking your dick in.” TK makes a doubtful noise. To be fair, Claude did give TK a lot of shit for sticking his dick into a bar of locker room soap. “I’m asking because when I was with a teammate, keeping it secret sucked.”

TK chokes on his Gatorade.

Telling him doesn’t feel as life-changing as it used to. Probably because Claude’s the captain now, actually certain of his place on the team with a few more years left on his contract. Also probably because he’s safely married.

“Congratulations,” Claude says, “I’m coming out to you, we’re bros for life now. You fucking Carter or what?”

“I’m not fucking _anybody, _man,” TK whines, mopping Gatorade off his face with his T-shirt. “Can you _chill_?”

It’s—honestly, he was kind of hoping to be able to talk someone else through this. Set right what once went wrong and all that. But TK’s not Claude, and he’s hungover, and also it’s seven in the morning. “Alright, fine.” He pushes out of the chair and tenderly kicks TK in the ribs. “I’m here if you need to talk about it, though.”

“I wish you weren’t,” TK moans.

Claude leaves him alone.

* * *

TK doesn’t bring it up for two days. They’re on the bench, second period. “So when you—” he starts, normal volume. Looks around, then abruptly leans in and lowers his voice. “So when you groped that cop did you want his dick for real?”

“Die,” says Claude.

* * *

**From: TK**  
when you got with a teammate how did that happen  
like how did you even know he was into dudes

**To: TK**  
He told me.

**From: TK  
**but how did you get him to

**To: TK**  
Scored the gwg, so he offered to blow me when we got home.

**From: TK  
**oh wow listen to this guy  
got a fuckin snipe here

**To: TK** **  
**Wait. Was that pic your first move  
TEEKS, he’s already SEEN that.

**From: TK**  
eat my whole ass giroux  
dont say it  
so theres no secret yes homo handshake for the nhl

**To: TK**  
There’s a Facebook group. No one else on the team is there, if that’s what you’re looking for. I don’t know if any other Flyers are gay or bi or whatever.

**From: TK**  
does ryanne know?  
about you and whoever

**To: TK  
**No, I told you a secret that I’ve kept from my  
w  
i  
f  
e  
Fucking of course she knows, teacakes

**From: TK**  
and she’s cool?

**To: TK**  
Is my wife cool with me being bi? The person I legally married and decided to have a baby with?

**From: TK**  
well i didn’t know!!

**To: TK  
**It’s not a big secret anyway. Coots already knows for sure. All the older guys do I think.

**From: TK  
**thought you said it was hard keeping stuff from the team

**To: TK**  
Yeah, we sucked at it.  
Anyway I don’t care if you tell people

**From: TK**  
fuckin great icebreaker bud  
“hey did you know g’s into dick? specifically simmer’s? any thoughts on that?”

**To: TK**  
Like you’ll come up with something better  
It wasn’t Simmer. where did you even get that?

**From: TK**  
idk man he’s old

**To: TK**  
It was before your time

**From: TK**  
gross

* * *

“So Trav says you’re helping him through some stuff,” Patty says.

Claude invited most of the team over for a potluck dinner thing between games. He tries to make up stuff for them to do besides drink, especially now that Patty can’t. And Gavin’s old enough that having guests over doesn’t make Ry want to strangle something. “Yeah?”

Patty could be talking about a few different things. Claude’s been giving TK a lot of hockey advice—obviously, he’s the captain, he does that to everyone. But TK’s having a good year. He gets a little more attention. Possibly Claude sees a little more of himself in the kid than he’d like to admit out loud.

But Patty looks squirrelly, awkward, like maybe he’s not talking about hockey at all.

“Like, the, uh.” He sticks out his index fingers, pokes them into each other a couple of times, and looks at Claude meaningfully.

It takes Claude a second to get it and when he does he nearly breaks a rib trying not to laugh. “What about it?”

“I don’t—” Patty looks around; they’re half tucked into a hallway, no one’s paying them any attention, but he’s still shifty.

Claude grabs a fistful of Patty’s collar and tows him down the hallway until he manages to jerk free. “Step into my office,” Claude intones, nudging open the door to Gavin’s nursery, and shuts it behind them both. “What’s up?”

Patty looks at the white-and-pastel furniture, the crates of toys stacked up against the walls, anywhere but Claude. “Is there really a Facebook group?” he asks.

Claude grins. “I think it started so Seguin could track down potential hookups.” Patty doesn’t laugh because he’s Patty and only TK can really pull that off, but he smiles a little. “Why, you want in?”

“I, uh. Maybe?”

Claude raises an eyebrow and waits Patty out.

“TK brought you and your thing with Schenn up—”

“_Schenner?” _says Claude. “Which fucking—no, doesn’t matter, both are wrong.”

Patty waves him off. “I just wanted to know, like. How you know. How you can tell if it’s worth doing anything about, if it might mess up the team.”

Claude’s not a mind reader; he gave up on that a while ago, especially when it came to things like this. But he’s not an idiot, either.

“Are you asking my permission?” Claude asks. Patty shakes his head, pink starting to blotch across his cheeks. “It isn’t—getting with a teammate’s not the only way to fuck up team dynamics. It’s like anything else, you know? Sometimes you play with guys you hate, or you fight with a friend and then you go out on the ice. Relationships don’t stay simple. If it goes bad, you compartmentalize and you play.”

Easier said than done, obviously.

“What if, like. If someone’s hurt. Wouldn’t it make things worse on his—boyfriend, or whatever?” Patty’s red as a lobster, now. It’s precious.

Claude shrugs. “Yeah, maybe. It depends.”

“Thanks, G.”

Claude slings an arm around Patty’s shoulders. “People are different. I don’t know what you should do. Just don’t be stupid about it.”

* * *

After the loss to the Lightning where TK took a high-stick to the face, Claude walks out to the parking lot and finds Patty with his fingers in TK’s mouth. They’re still in their full game day suits, thank god, Patty boxing TK up against TK's truck.

“If I cut myself on your janky tooth and get rabies and die, I swear I’ll haunt you forever,” Patty says.

“Ifsnathaba,” says TK. Even in the near dark left by streetlights and errant headlight beams Claude can tell he’s having the time of his goddamn life. 

When the flash of Claude's phone camera goes off TK startles, and he can’t quite tell what happens but Patty yelps a second later. Claude ignores their shouts and gets in his car. If they didn't want the attention, they shouldn't be doing this shit in the parking lot.

* * *

**To: Danny**  
[IMAGE FILE ATTACHED]  
were we this obvious?

**From: Danny**  
You, maybe.

**To: Danny**  
Who had the idea for Christmas cards Dan

**From: TK**  
come on g you ruined my moment

**From: Patrick**  
you’re such a creep  
send me that picture

* * *

Claude always keeps half an eye on Patty in the locker room, especially before games, makes sure he isn’t about to start beating his head against the walls. So it’s not his fault he ends up eavesdropping. Is it even eavesdropping, really, if it happens in the middle of the goddamn locker room?

TK’s lacing up his skates and Patty knocks his hand against his knee, interrupting TK’s stream-of-consciousness ramble about whether he should pick up different color laces. “You’ve been killing it out there, you know.”

“Fuck yeah I have,” TK says. “Sacrificed a tooth to Gritty and now I’m fucking gold.”

Patty snorts. Claude finishes pulling on his jersey and checks his stick tape. From the corner of his eye he sees TK rise to his feet.

“But like,” he hears Patty say, and it’s—intense. Claude looks up and Patty’s got his hand on the back of TK’s knee, and TK’s staring down at him, hand braced against the stall divider, and thank god they don’t have any cameras in here right now. Patty’s smirking. “Keep it up, alright?”

TK is actually speechless for a moment. Claude gets back to taping his stick.

* * *

TK scores the game-winning goal in overtime.

* * *

**From: TK  
**thanks for the advice o captain my captain

**To: TK  
**I gave you a pass this once but if you or Patty ever pull that shit in the locker room again I will tell the whole team about it

**From: TK**  
😜😜😜

**Author's Note:**

> <strike>listen, this sucks but it was my first time breaking the rpf seal. comments and kudos are much appreciated anyway.</strike> please do not repost anywhere real people can see it.
> 
> **eta 1/18:** lmao sry about the self-deprecating nonsense. you don't have to tell me it doesn't suck! it's ok! comments and kudos are still much appreciated--the reception to this really caught me off guard, i've been posting in tiny fandoms for so long.
> 
> **eta 12/26:** [director's commentary is here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26045182/chapters/63337636)


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